My Master's Name
by MoonClaimed
Summary: Myoga, Inuyasha. Wherein a hanyou pup wins the respect of someone oft overlooked. Oneshot. Myogacentric.


My Master's Name

Summery: Myoga, Inuyasha wherein a hanyou pup wins the respect of someone oft overlooked. Oneshot. Myogacentric.

**IMPORTANT INFO FOR STORY:**

Honorfics (Ex: -san, -sama) play a central role in this story. What follows is a brief explanation of the ones I used.

-( ): LACK OF A HONORFIC: This can mean two vastly different things. It is used between close knit family members or friends. It connotates a great deal of intimacy. **OR** it can be extremely disrespectful. This is how it is used here.

-chan: Diminuative. Often used for girls or small children. It is not offensive, in fact often affectionate, but does not show respect.

-sama: It means "Lord". Very respectful. Used to address someone in a higher station.

-hime: "Princess"

-jiji: "old man". Disrespectful.

-san: "Mister" or "Mrs." Respectful but not overly so.

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Myoga had always taken pride in the fact that, though he might be the worst kind of coward, if his lord wanted something done he got it done. Because of this his lord had always trusted him more than might be otherwise expected.

Well, if he had known _this_ would be the result of that trust he might just have taken his orders a little less seriously.

"You cannot be serious Inutaisho-sama," he cried piteously.

"I am gravely serious Myoga, and I do not trust you with this lightly."

"But my lord, the hanyou-"

"My _son_, Myoga, and I am asking you, as your lord and old friend, to be his retainer, to teach him if I am unable, to advise him as you have advised me," the lord replied.

Myoga looked up at his lord's face, at his earnest eyes…and gave in.

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The flea stared down at the week-old hanyou pup, sleeping peacefully in his mother's futon, and sneered.

"It's your fault, you know, Hanyou. If you had never been born, my lord would still be alive. Do not think I will forgive you for that." He sniffed and hopped closer to the little, down covered head. He had to admit that, for a seven-day old, the pup looked remarkably like his lord. Same eyes, hair, even ears…though from Inutaisho-sama's dog form of course…

"No. I'll not be swayed by a passing likeness; Hanyou, I am only here at all because my lord wished it. I'll have you know I'd just as soon leave. And I'll tell you now, Hanyou, that is just what I'll always call you. You do not deserve the name my honorable lord gave you."

Having said these words out loud, Myoga felt much firmer in his convictions; his mind was free to focus on more important matters.

The trauma and bustle since his lord's death had made it impossible for him to catch anything more than a drop of blood in days. Unfortunately, the only meal in hopping distance was sleeping in front of him.

He couldn't say the thought did not disgust him; hanyou blood was as filthy as it came. But not seeing an alternative, he decided to drink as little blood as possible then find the closest unsullied entity and drink his fill.

And that is what he did. But as he hurried from the room he could not deny that the hanyou's blood had been every bit as rich as his late master's…

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Childish laughter rang loudly outside the closed doors of Izayoi-hime's chambers. Inside there was no laughter; however, there was the shyly exuberant voice of a small boy. He babbled endlessly about anything and everything his young mind settled on.

Myoga clenched his fists and tried to block the incessant drone of the hanyou's voice from his mind. "Can the boy not hold his tongue?" He thought, agitated, "Keep silent for one, single, solitary moment? Shut up?" The sound of shifting fabric brought him back to the present.

The hanyou had pushed himself up to his elbows from where he lay on his stomach in front of Myoga. Slowly, he tilted his head to the side as he examined the flea's tight fists and stiff shoulders. Then he smiled.

"You don' like me either, do you?"

The question echoed in the nearly empty room.

"What do--"

"You don' like me either," he was surer of himself now. He knew the signs. "Sorry for botherin' you." He got to his feet, bowed the way he had been taught, and ducked out of the room to find his mother.

Myoga watched the boy go.

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"Inuyasha, how dare you treat your honorable mother in such a way!" Myoga scolded his young charge.

Why, the boy had just charged into Izayoi-hime's chambers, brushed past his mother's loving welcome and usual hug, and come barreling into his own small room. Myoga, ever dutiful, had immediately come to chastise the boy.

"But Myoga-jiji-"

"And I have spoken to you about calling me that. It is entirely inappropriate! Now march back out there and apologize to Izayoi-hime!"

"But Myoga-san-"

"I'll have no buts! Go! March! Run alon-"

"But Hahaoya will cry!"

"What!" Myoga squawked with no small amount of ire. The boy did not think that treating the poor woman in such a way would upset her?

That was when Myoga noticed the faint bruise forming on the boy's brow. And that he was favoring his left leg. And that he was biting his lip quite hard, ostensibly to stop the small tears in his eyes from journeying down his cheeks.

"Ah. I see." He paused for a breath. "Let's get you bandaged up."

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Myoga was worried for Inuyasha-chan. He had left him in his mother's tender care several moons past to settle some of his late lord's business. Since then worrisome rumors had begun to circulate. Rumors of a coughing disease and hostile human relatives. Myoga endeavored to return quickly.

Following the path to Izayoi-hime's village, he was distracted by the sound of crying carried on the wind. He turned around and peered into the forest surrounding him to find the source.

He ran in the direction he decided upon but slowed as he neared the source. There, in a small clearing among the trees, was his quarry. And not in the state he had hoped to find him.

The boy was dirty, shivering, crying, and draped over a freshly covered grave. Myoga approached slowly but stopped to read the roughly hewn headstone. Izayoi was scrawled in a childish hand.

"Why…" the flea trailed off. This was not a grave worthy of a lady of Izayoi-hime's place. This was not her family's gravesite.

Then he noticed the dirt and rock under her son's broken claws and it became sickeningly clear.

He jumped on the lad's nose and took a good suck of rich blood and was swiftly swatted off by a belligerent hand.

After succeeding in waking the boy, he patted his hand and whispered, "Come along now, Inuyasha-sama."

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P.S. I'll love all reviews no matter how short :D


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